Cowboy Kids
by Anti-canon
Summary: Dean becomes easily entranced by the town ne'er do well, Castiel, when he and his father move there for a new start. Teenage!AU, 2014-ish Cas, etc etc
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welps, I've been wanting to write a fic with a 2014-ish Cas for a while now, and I have been experimenting with it a bit in a few requests but I'm thinking if I took a serious shot at it this is what it might look like.**

**Got any feedback for me?**

This isn't the first time that you've woken in a strange place and couldn't quite recall how you got there. Slowly you drag yourself into a sitting position and take stock of your surroundings. Light is filtering in through old and broken boards barely held together by rusty nails to make a ramshackle shed around you. Patches of clovers grow sporadically around the dirt floor and they are soft and wet and fresh beneath your fingers. Wind chimes are hung from the ceiling, the walls, the headboard of the creaky wrought iron bed in the corner. The glass and silver, the copper and brass, they all shine in the early morning light and you get a little breathless in the wonder of it. That's when a gravelly voice from nearby breaks the growing sense of isolation, "They're supposed to keep out evil."

A boy about your age is lying next to you, half naked and starting to prop himself up on his elbows. His hair is dark, mussed, and full of dirt. His eyes are an electric blue that steals your voice, and there's light stubble framing thin, pale pink lips. He's beautiful and intense and you have no idea who the hell he is. "What?" you croak, throat dry.

"The wind chimes- I collect them because they are supposed to ward off evil." he rolls his eyes at the statement, but you can see in his eyes and the twitch of his lips that he wants to believe it. The way he looks at you- it makes you shiver, but in a good way, and if you're reading things right…. You start to lie back and as you recline, you cup the back of his head and drag him with you. When he rubs his nose along the tip of yours, you know you did and so you kiss him. Even though you don't know who he is or where you are, he truly is gorgeous and he makes you feel- you're not quite sure how to explain it yet.

He chuckles into your mouth and pulls away gently. "Morning breath." he whispers before kissing both of your eyelids and standing up. You bite your lip to try and keep back a smile as you watch him search for his shirt and shoes. You are missing your jacket and you think your underwear might be gone, but right now it doesn't really matter. You remember that your dad is probably worried sick waiting for you- all alone in the new house and wince. There's no way in hell you're gonna come out of this one scot-free. You have to go- the sooner you get home, the better, but there's something you have to do first.

You get up and cross the room grabbing him by the waist and burying your face in the nape of his neck, giving him one hell of a love bite. "What the hell?" he tries to sound mad, but you can hear the laughter trying to fight its way free.

You shrug and nibble at the shell of his ear, "So I can find you later." You turn him in your arms so you can get a closer look at this mysteriously alluring guy and are shocked by the tenderness in his gaze. "Y'know, since you can't be bothered to give me your name." you smirk as he purses his lips and pinches at your sides.

"Actually I already did, but I guess it just wasn't that important…. Dean." he dances out of your grip and plays offended as he practically glides to the door and disappears outside it. Whoever the hell he is, you like him. A lot. And so you run after him, a grin breaking out across your face, but when you get outside he has already disappeared. Instead of getting on your nerves, this just makes your heart sing with the thrill of the chase. Oh, this is going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright- so I decided to just go through with this and see where it leads. :P That prolly sounds real reassuring, but oh wells. It's just how I work. Herp derp.**

**Please lemme know what you're thinking of this! I kinda have no idea what I'm doing so all comments/criticisms/suggestions are welcome.**

The next time you see your mystery boy, you are reluctantly walking towards the entrance to the miniscule high school just on the outskirts of town. He is sitting on the low brick wall that separates the outside eating area from the sidewalk, a cigarette cradled in his fingers and smoke curling around his tongue. The grey sweater he is wearing is about two sizes too big and the sleeves keep falling down no matter how many times he shoves them past the crook of his elbow. The collar of it hangs low enough to prominently display the love bite from earlier and for a moment you find yourself inexplicably pleased. But as you continue to look you can see other bruises blooming across his skin that weren't there this morning and these definitely aren't the loving kind.

Without asking for any permission from your mind, your legs carry you to him as fast as possible and once you are there you hold onto his knees and try to catch his gaze. When you finally do it takes him a second to come back from wherever he had gotten lost within his thoughts. "Oh, hey Dean." His voice, his smile, his trembling hands all make him suddenly seem so fragile and he is completely different than the boy from before. It hurts you to see the change in him and you pay no mind to all the looks that are being shot in your direction. You may have only met him just a day before, but you feel something with this boy so real you can't turn your back on it.

You don't ask him if he's okay, you don't ask if he wants company, you don't ask what happened, you just take his hand and drag him off the wall and away from all the stares. "C'mon, I'm gonna take you somewhere." is all you offer him as you walk, still holding his hand, off of school grounds. This seems to be enough for him as he picks up the pace so that you are walking side by side and offers a drag off of his cigarette. You take a drag and give him a disapproving head-shake as spiced smoke fills your lungs. "Whatever happened to good ol' menthols? No one smokes menthols anymore- it's all about weed and cloves and shit." You get a chuckle out of him at that and he moves more into your personal space so he can steal the smoke back, but doesn't move back once he has it.

"Where are we going?"

He whispers, for what reason you don't know, but you find yourself whispering back just for kicks, "It's a secret- patience!" He flicks the butt out into the street before you cross into a field that seems as though it just might stretch on forever. He doesn't ask any more questions as the two of you just walk. You walk, and walk, and the silence is never uncomfortable and your hands never get sweaty and your limbs never get tired. For a while you think that if he would let you, you would keep on walking until your legs gave out, but your second "date" of sorts might be a bit early for running away together. So instead you walk until you reach the first dilapidated fence and just drop to the ground. He looks down at you for a few seconds before shrugging and falling down beside you.

Once he does you prop yourself up on an elbow and reach for the collar of his shirt. He catches your eyes and doesn't look anywhere else as you slide it over and down his shoulder to reveal the pale skin covered in dark splotches. He still doesn't move as you lean forward and begin laying soft kisses on each spot of damaged skin you can reach. He says nothing, does nothing as you continue on and for a while it is just this. And it's enough. As you nuzzle into the crook of his neck he finally lets out an exaggerated sigh, "Alright! Fine, you win." He smirks at your confusion before kissing you between the brows and whispering into your ear, "You can call me Cas."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This piece really shouldn't have taken this long, but I, being the incredibly intelligent person that I am, decided to take on another WIP, as if I didn't have enough, and am now being eaten alive. :P**

**My apologies. Anyways, please lemme know whatcha think. ^^**

It's times like these that remind you that you've only met Cas two ago- even though it feels like you've known him forever. The two of you were having a fine time, enjoying the finest grease laden delicacies from the nearest 24 hour diner and joking over the discrepancies between books and their film adaptations when suddenly everything turned and he stormed out. You're not even sure what it is that set him off, but you do know that you're now sitting in the booth alone- and he's out there wandering in the dark on some abandoned, creepy-ass highway, and you feel like you're going to be sick.

So you drop some cash on the counter, grab your jacket, and get in the Impala. For as mellow as Cas likes to play at, you have started to notice that he is actually really temperamental. Though he never makes big scenes, or changes much outwardly- the smallest thing can make him withdraw and it drives you insane trying to navigate this minefield of topics when it feels like you are so much further along than petty arguments. You roll down the windows and call out his name to the endless fields that look like the edge of the world in the darkness.

As you cruise down the two lane stretch of road, ignoring the occasional passerby that honks angrily at your pace, you find yourself actually getting more and more pissed at his reaction. So maybe you step on a few toes now and then- if he would just stay to talk it out like a normal person instead of closing up and pushing you away- you might just get somewhere. The more you think about it, the faster you start driving, the tighter you grip the wheel, the louder you turn up the music.

And when you finally find him, white knuckled grip, stereo blasting, speedometer reading 85 mph, you pull over onto the shoulder and thrash at tour seatbelt. When you storm through the cloud of dust obscuring him from view, thinking about all the profanities you're gonna spit, all the accusations that you're gonna make, a righteous fury build up in your chest. You see the silhouette of his figure and your fists clench and shake with rage. You step into his personal space, shove at his shoulders, yell at him, shake a fist in his face- and he flinches.

You're suddenly aware of just how terrified he looks, how small he's shrunk, and everything clicks in your mind. If you thought you felt sick before- it was nothing compared to this. All at once you deflate and turn all the negative energy inwards. You hate yourself for making him look like this, you hate that you can see the tracks of fresh tears- ones that you caused, and when you reach out to comfort him and he stumbles over himself trying to back away, you fall to your knees in revulsion.

He back up a few more paces before falling back onto the weeds between the crops and the road. He tries to light up with shaking hands, but tosses the lighter out into the street in frustration when he can't hold the flame still. Not knowing what to do with yourself you slowly drag yourself into a standing position and then go after it. When you find it, cracked and dirty, just off the road, you test it out a few times to make sure it works, staring into the glow of the fire and trying to swallow past the lump in your throat.

You take a few deep breaths- the first few coming out raspy- before turning and walking towards him, slow and careful. You stop at arm's length and crouch, clicking the flame to life and offering it out. He looks at you warily, wiping at his eyes, before leaning forward, cigarette still pressed between his lips, and inhales once the tip hits the fire. He pulls away as soon as the cherry glow can maintain itself and takes a few long drags, shoulders loosening slightly with each breath. You wait patiently, testing for the right moments, and when you feel it's appropriate you scoot closer, inch by inch, trading you steps for his breaths. And when you are close enough to touch, you sit and wait some more.

You don't say anything- don't apologize, don't make promises. You just sit with him, and when you feel his head hit your shoulder you wait a second or two before laying yours down on top.


End file.
